


(Anything) for her eyes

by ChocoNut



Series: Modern JB love [53]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, JBWeek2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:09:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26776408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: Jaime can do charity. And he can be quite greedy. It depends on the situation, actually.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Modern JB love [53]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557871
Comments: 12
Kudos: 76
Collections: Jaime x Brienne Week 2020





	(Anything) for her eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Charity and Greed - Both he's capable of, isn't he?

“It’s the first time I’m being forced to break the tradition,” Brienne says, sadly looking back at the last five years, at how she’s been carrying out her father’s dying wish without fail. “No funds this time. We’re running into losses.” 

With the pandemic wreaking havoc on economies worldwide, even with the lock down now being lifted, the Tarth chain of fast food joints is yet to open for business, and with the fears the past few months have instilled in everyone, it’s going to be a task to lure their loyal customers back to pay heed to their taste buds.

Jaime puts away whatever he’s doing on his phone, his entire attention on her. “So this means—”

“Yes,” she sighs, “no feast at the orphanage this time on dad’s birth anniversary. I’ve been reviewing our financial position and—” she glances at the ominous looking spreadsheet on her laptop. “I don’t even know if we’ll be able to pick up the pieces and start all over again.”

“It’s just a passing phase, wench.” Jaime places a reassuring hand on her thigh, and for the first few glorious seconds, her guilt takes a back seat. In its place is a tingly sensation that starts from somewhere below her belly and spreads all the way down to her toes. 

“This meal for the homeless kids—” he looks at her inquiringly “—is it—”

“It meant a lot to dad. He used to talk about it for days in advance, looking forward to it like a ten year old awaiting his birthday,” she remembers, looking back at how on his birthday her father used to surround himself with these kids, watching them enjoy the day, laughing and eating to their heart’s content like children their age should. It used to bring him immense contentment and satisfaction. “But this year, I’m afraid, I’m going to let him down.”

“He’ll understand,” Jaime consoles her, his hand stroking down to her knee. Brienne feels her breath hitch up to her throat, there’s the butterflies-in-the-stomach sensation again. “Besides, there’s always a next time,” he says, his voice sounding like a bright ray of sunshine. “Or maybe—” he starts, but curtails himself and leans back on the cushion thoughtfully.

“There might be a next year—” But she trails away. With the way things are going, the prospects don’t look that sunny. 

+++++

Later that day, it takes Brienne tremendous mental effort to make that phone call, but biting the bullet, she brings herself to do it.

“I’m sorry but I’m going to have to cancel this year’s arrangement,” she regretfully tells the organizer. She’s never felt this hollow before. “You see, we aren’t in a position to—”

“But the donation for this year’s event has already come in,” the woman at the other end informs, “along with instructions to leave nothing lacking in the celebrations—”

“Hang on,” Brienne interrupts her, sure the manager’s got her mixed up with someone else. “This is about my father’s memorial feast and I’m pretty sure I haven’t remitted the usual amount yet—”

“You haven’t, but someone has,” says the chirpy voice from the other side. “We just received the donation—”

“Wait-who was it?” Brienne stops her again, her heartbeat picking him. She can take a wild guess, but she could be wrong.

“He’s chosen to remain anonymous—”

“But you must—”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Tarth. All he said I can reveal is that he’s your well wisher.” 

It does rings a bell alright.

Brienne doesn’t ask further. She doesn’t need a stranger to tell her who might have been behind this. They’ve been close friends for a while now, more than that, as far as she’s concerned. While she’s quite certain he’ll never return her romantic feelings, they’ve always been there for one another, each standing by the other in their weak times, holding their hand, steering them through every patch of darkness they’ve been pushed into.

But this—

She’s unable to do anything for the remainder of the day. Flicking idly through TV channels doesn’t help, nor does flipping pages of a book. More than once, she’s tempted to pick up the phone and confront him, but this is a matter she’d rather discuss in person—

As if the gods want this to happen, the door clicks open and he comes in with a casual, “Hey.” 

“We need to talk,” she bursts out, before he can escape to his room. “Now.”

Unsurprised and resigned, as if he’s been preparing for this all along, he approaches her. “What is it, Brienne?”

“Why, Jaime?” She doesn’t find the need to give him the context. He knows. And she knows that.

He takes a second to ponder, then shrugs as if he’s been doing this every day. “The Lannisters have way too much wealth,” he casually states. “More than we can spend for generations to come, so if some of it is going to put a smile on some kid’s face—”

“You never did any of this all these years,” she points out the peculiarity particular to this time. “Why, why now—”

Again, he gives her a look that makes it obvious he’s been preparing his answers. “This year’s different, the world’s reeling from whatever just happened, and it doesn’t hurt to part with a bit of money to—”

“We both know it isn’t a bit of money.” All day, it’s been gnawing through her—the doubt if there’s more to his good deed than the urge for philanthropy, something that revolves around her, something she’s been hoping will evolve into more than what they share. “This didn’t come from your father’s assets,” she guesses, that he’s detached himself from his father’s empire striking her in a lightning bolt. “Or the company’s funds. I know you, Jaime, you’ll never ask your father for—” 

“Yeah, so what?” He gives her a defiant look. “So what if it’s my money?”

She suddenly remembers he’s been building a corpus. “It’s from the deposit you’ve been accumulating to—”

“Yes,” he admits, his eyes shifting from her to the floor and back on to her. 

“But you—” she shakes her head in disbelief “—you wanted that new apartment at The Red Keep—”

“Ah, maybe next year,” he shrugs her off again. “On second thoughts, I decided to put away the plan, doesn’t appeal that much anymore—” 

“You’re lying.” Something’s pressing into her chest, pushing her heart into her ribs. “Every bit of it, you’ve been saving up for your dream house, and now, because of this, you’ll fall short—”

“I can cover up that shortfall in the coming years,” he says, a lot more than the desire to be charitable showing up in his eyes. “Anything’s worth—” his voice gives way to uneven breathing.

“Why did you do it, Jaime?” Unless her instincts are horribly off-track, she knows. But she wants it from him.

“These eyes,” he says in a tone she’s never heard before, arresting her in a gaze she doesn’t want to budge from. “I can’t bear to see even the slightest trace of sadness in them, wench.” 

“Jaime—”

He comes closer. “Enough of this pretending to be just friends.” She can sense his heart fluttering away, hers not far behind. “I can’t do it anymore.”

“Nor can I,” she murmurs, then surrendering to her urges for a change, she moves in to kiss him.

+++++

“Hey, there!”

Brienne stirs in contentment and anticipation. She’s never woken up to a husky voice whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

“Hey,” she whispers, cuddling against him. “Didn’t we just do this just before we dozed off?” she teases, his eyes, loaded with intent, the needy throb of his erection into her thighs getting her wet and aching again. “And here you are—” she grinds herself against his hips “—hungry again.”

Jaime pins her down to the bed, his mouth hot and demanding as he begins kissing her all over. “I need to taste you.”

“You ate me out like a man starved for days,” she recalls with a squirm of pleasure, “only sometime back. It isn’t even morning yet—”

“I’m developing an insatiable appetite for you,” he growls, closing her mouth with his. “And I kinda like it. I need more—” his tongue pushes against hers, the stiffness of his rock-hard cock against her soft wetness leaving her craving for him again. This intoxication, this heady transportation into a world of passion and bliss—it’s taking over her body, her senses, just like _he_ did last night. 

“Now you’re being greedy,” she eggs him on. He presses his lips to her neck, and her skin’s on fire, his burning breath leaving her nipples taut and her arousal begging for respite.

“For more of my wench,” he possessively rasps, kissing down her chest. “If you call that greed—” his tongue gently nudges her nipple, she’s barely able to breathe, thoughts and fitting replies out of the question “—so be it.” 

He glides down her body, kissing away as he goes. She spreads her legs when his lips brush her, wanting more of his greed, his insane need to devour her. When his mouth is on her, she can’t help a moan. Raw from last night, she wants more, wants him to suck, to lick her senseless.

“Feels good?” he asks, his tongue ravaging her, his lips pressing and pushing into her delicate sensitive skin.

“Oh yes,” she appreciates, lifting her hips to take him in deeper, “but I—I need you to—” 

She gyrates into him, suffering and enjoying the aggravation of her arousal against the heat of his mouth. He laps at her, tongue covering her with generous swirls, and she squirms and whimpers, one hand curled around his neck, the other grabbing at the bedspread for support. She sighs and gasps at him to go faster, and he showers her with thirsty kisses, strikes her with exploring thrusts of his tongue, his strong arms keeping her in place while his mouth takes her apart.

“Jaime,” she whimpers, her desperation soaring to the skies when her orgasm starts to build. “Jaime, I—”

She wants him inside her now, wants his thick hard cock to stretch her. She wants him to fuck her until she sees stars. “Jaime—”

He seems to share her desire. Depriving her of the services of his fingers, he slides on top of her, pausing every now and then to kiss, to touch, to _feel_. 

It’s beginning to get excruciating as he goes on. Hands wander. Fingers prod and grope. Lips tease. 

His sighs dissolve in her sweat.

And her terse grunts, broken words, her urgent whispers of what she’d like him to do to her—well, they’re not lost on him.

Imprisoning her eyes in an intimate gaze, he pushes into her, his engorged length sliding into her slickness, the sensation of _her_ hugging every inch of _him_ sending her into fits of pleasure.

 _Fuck, yes!_

He’s greedy and so is she, and that’s the way she wants it to be. 

He begins to ride her, slowly, taking in every twitch of her lips, every gasp, every sign of her sexual desperation. His eyes shine with all that he feels for her, the windows to his heart, the preview to his soul. _Slow_ slowly turns into faster when he cannot contain it anymore, and _gentle_ elevates to rough and hard. 

“Brienne,” he sighs, pushing deeper, his cries of pleasure mixing with hers. 

She pulls him closer and kisses him hard, the taste of his mouth, his sweat dragging her deeper into this current of lust she doesn’t want to swim away from.

“Your eyes,” he says, tearing his mouth away to gaze into them again. “I love them, wench.” Balls slamming into her flesh again and again and again, he rocks her with one vigorous thrust after the other. “But it’s not just your eyes that I—”

His lips say the rest when he takes hers in a fiery kiss.

A sweet whisper, she has for him, a gentle reciprocation of his profession of love.

And then, bliss is the destination they begin a journey towards. That is all they know. And each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you liked it.


End file.
